Frankenstein's Monster
by Tramontana Keeper
Summary: Three thousand years ago, he was betrayed and enslaved, locked underground by the Tombkeepers, and a mindless puppet was given his body, his freedom and even his name: Malik. Very semi AU.
1. Prologue

I am very proud of this story. Unlike my other chaptered story, this one is going to be quite short, but I love this idea.

Disclaimer: Eta nye maya (It isn't mine. Well, aside from the idea for the fic.)

**Prologue**

The once Priest, now Pharaoh, Seth strode down the corridors of his palace on the way to the dungeons, servants bowing to him as he passed, and soldiers leaping to attention. He continued downwards, passing through several deserted areas, until he reached the place he was looking for. Two burly guards on either side of the door jumped to attention and bowed. The door itself was engraved and painted with complex wards, the beginning of the security measures taken here. Seth passed through, noting the slight tingle from the wards with satisfaction. Their power was great. Nothing less would do for keeping the creature they had captured under control. He continued further into the wing, evidence of the more powerful spells laid here becoming evident. The Pharaoh finally reached his destination, and entered the large cell where _it_ was kept. Aside from the monster, two of the Priests were there as well, keeping vigil over it. Seth finally allowed his eyes to stray to the monster, which was chained to the wall at the back of the cell. His lip curled in revulsion, as he surveyed the creature, which was slumped against the wall, bleeding slightly from the many wounds on its body. It was part of a legendary race of beings which had tried to pass themselves off as gods. Unfortunately for them, they had nearly been destroyed by one of their own, and very few were left. Once they had been thought of as gods in Egypt too, but thankfully, now the Egyptians knew better. Those monsters were demons, a scourge upon humanity and a blasphemy to the true Gods. Under other circumstances, when they had discovered this one, it would have been killed immediately. Now however, they had need of its power. Though these creatures were acknowledged as monsters and vermin, they had great power, and it was that power that the Pharaoh needed. That power was also the reason for the tight security and numerous spells set in the area, for even young ones such as the one they had captured were dangerous adversaries.

The two Priests rose and bowed. Seth nodded at them, then turned his attention back to the thing.

"I see that you have not yet broken it," he commented, slight disapproval in his voice. He was not truly angry at his Priests; he knew the greatness of the task he had set them, and was participant in it himself. They had already spent a week trying to break its spirit, but it stubbornly refused to cooperate. Despite the spells and coercions laid on it, and the physical torture that left it broken and bleeding, it still refused to obey their demands. Even now, it stared at them insolently, though he could see hopelessness reflecting from its three eyes.

"It should not be long now, my Pharaoh," the priest Karim said respectfully. "Even a creature of its kind will break eventually, and this one is young."

"Remember," Seth cautioned, "there is to be a Priest in here at all times. It doesn't matter who is chosen, as long as it is one of the Priests who will be faithful to Pharaoh Atem's memory and to his duty." This vigil was kept up mostly by the male Priests, as the females tended to be more emotional. Seth had no doubts about any of his Priests, and about their commitment to him and to the task of preserving Pharaoh Atem's memory until he could reclaim it, but he still worried that their will would weaken if they took an active part in this effort. Women tended to be emotional about younglings, even if they were abominations.

Seth strode across the spell-engraved floor, until he was close to the monster. He was careful not to get too close to it, as there was no knowing whether it could still have any abilities it could use to attack, despite the subjugation spells on it. The thing straightened in its chains to the best of its ability, knowing what was coming. It glared at him fiercely, its pointy fangs clearly visible.

Despite its show of bravado, Seth could see how its willpower had weakened. Karim had spoken truly when he claimed it was close to breaking. Gripping his Millennium Item tightly, he directed his mental power at its mind. Like all the other times, he encountered a wall of resistance, pushing him back. He drew back slightly, then resumed his attack. The outer wall of its mind crumbled quickly, causing it to pull against its chains with the pain. Seth picked up a whip, attacking the monster physically while continuing to bombard its mind. It cried out in pain, struggling to maintain its mental defenses while the whip raised bloody welts on its skin.

When the Pharaoh finally stopped, the other Priest present, Shadi, stepped forward. Concentrating on its mind, Shadi sent a gentle probe to worm its way through the creature's defenses, leaving a trail of depression, exhaustion, self-doubt, and defeat behind it. The thing sagged against the wall, its face screwed up as it attempted to fight the new intrusion into its mind.

"You know what we want." Shadi spoke in a soft, persuasive voice, keeping his revulsion of the creature in check. "Just give up, and we'll stop with this."

Seth was surprised that Shadi could muster such a compassionate sounding tone while speaking to it. He considered Shadi's words rather pointless, though. There was no way the monster would actually believe them.

Shadi maintained his façade as the thing looked up at him pleadingly, sweat trickling down its face to mingle with the blood running from different places on its body. Already some of its cuts were healing, as its quick metabolism took care of its wounds. Its mouth moved, though whatever it wanted to say was inaudible.

"I promise," Shadi said. A feeling of triumph swept through him as it lowered its head in defeat. A moment later, it raised its head once more, its third eye glowing. Shadi felt a strange lightheadedness, as the light seemed to call something from inside his body. Abruptly there was a feeling of tearing, as his soul left his body, to be absorbed into the creature's eye. Disorientation hit Shadi hard, as he collapsed to the ground, assailed by vertigo. The Pharaoh and Karim were at his side immediately, assisting their companion. Shadi finally looked up, and they could see the heathen symbol on his forehead that marked his connection to the thing chained to the wall. A grave silence settled on them for a moment, as they contemplated what Shadi had given up for the sake of Pharaoh Atem and everyone else. With this act, Shadi had pledged his eternal life to protecting the Millennium Items, and preserving the Pharaoh Atem's memory until the time he would return to reclaim it.

For that was the greatest power of this race of creatures, known as the Sanjiyan Unkara. They had the ability to grant immortality to whomever they chose. Not the kind of immortality they themselves had, which meant they lived until killed, but true immortality, the owner of which could never be killed, until the Sanjiyan who had granted him the immortality died.

Seth looked at Shadi with compassion. The kind of strength it takes to pledge eternal life to fulfilling a purpose is not easy to come by. In addition, his faithful Priest would spend that life shackled to some hell-spawn, forced to protect it, or else his purpose would be forfeit.

Shadi went over to the creature and freed its limbs from the chains, catching it as it collapsed onto him. He looked to the Pharaoh for confirmation, and received a nod. Their task was not yet over. A more permanent way of completely suppressing its powers could now be used, and the Pharaoh's memory linked to it. In addition, a system for keeping it under control would have to be devised, one that would last long past their deaths.

Karim grabbed its arm, and pulled it out of the cell, where they were joined by one of the new Priests who had been initiated to replace those who had died in the service of Pharaoh Atem. The two manhandled the creature roughly, dragging it into another room. It began struggling, looking to the impassive Shadi for help.

"You promised!" it cried, trying to dig its heels into the stone floor, as it twisted around in its captors' grip.

Shadi shook his head silently, and watched as it was dragged to the stone table in the center of the room. He had indeed fulfilled his promise, they had stopped the torture they had been putting it through for the past week. Even though he probably had no real obligation toward the thing, he had kept the promise, but would do nothing more.

The Sanjiyan's lavender eyes widened as it perceived the betrayal, and an expression akin to horror made its way onto its features.

"It's not supposed to be like this! You're my Wu!" it cried, as it was chained down on its stomach, arms splayed out. "Why are you doing this to me?" A tear escaped from its eye, as it watched Shadi turn his back on him and leave the room.

In an attempt to silence it, the new Priest yanked its head back by its spiky hair, and slammed it forward into the stone table. This produced the desired result, as its whole body went lax, allowing the two Priests to continue their work.

Karim finished heating his knife, and came over to where the child was chained down, and began carving into his back the spells that would forever prevent him from using his power. The child struggled and screamed as the lines of fire were driven into his skin, but what hurt him most was the sense of betrayal. The one called Shadi was his Wu! How could he turn his back on him? Why wasn't he helping him? What had he ever done to these humans to make them torture him this way?

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A/N: This chapter is different from the others, in that it happens in Ancient Egypt. To those of you who recognized the Sanjiyan Unkara, this is a crossover with the series 3x3 Eyes by Yuzo Takada. Since not many people are at all familiar with that series, this will be written taking that into account. No characters from 3x3 Eyes appear anyway, so it shouldn't bother.


	2. Pet

**Chapter 1: Pet**

Rishid strode silently down the hall in Malik's Domino stronghold. Malik was currently in his room, planning who-knew-what, and Rishid knew that he would be safe. He made his way downstairs, finally ducking into his own room and closing the door. There he pulled a cell phone out from its hiding place behind the nightstand, and dialed a number. It rang several times, before a female voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Isis," he said quietly.

"Rishid!" She sounded delighted to hear him. "You're safe, right?"

"I wouldn't be calling you, otherwise." He smiled. "Despite the influence from his 'darker' half, Malik still is very naïve. At this point he trusts me very much, so I don't have to worry about losing track of him."

Isis sighed with relief. "On my side, things are developing according to plan. I have already contacted the Pharaoh and told him parts of our story. With the way Malik is behaving now, we don't have to worry about the Pharaoh _not_ seeing him as a threat. He will definitely be defeated."

"Better yet, I predict that, in time, Malik will come to see his 'other half' as a threat as well. Either way, we win." Rishid smiled again. "And of course, who would the Pharaoh and his friends listen to? The psychopath trying to take over the world, or the _devoted_ siblings trying to save their dear brother from 'himself'?"

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Isis sat with her mother, reading. Though her whole life was devoted to guarding the Pharaoh's memories and their bearer, and as such she would not be spending much time outside of the tombs, her mother still insisted that she learn languages and be educated. She was her mother's only child, and, being a girl, would share the burden of guarding the tombs with her adopted older brother, Rishid. Isis could read, speak, and write in Ancient Egyptian, but her mother insisted that was a dead language. As such, she was learning modern languages such as Arabic and English. She was quite fascinated by the Arabic, with its pretty, swirly lines of writing that could be made to form almost any shape.  After her reading session was over, they moved on towards History. Isis glanced up, to check on Malik, and her mother did likewise. Satisfied that he was still playing happily with the marbles, they returned to their lesson.

Isis took her duty as a Guardian seriously. Even after her mother died and only her father was left, she still did her best to be the best Guardian ever. She wasn't sure if she completely agreed with her father's system. Being strict and harsh with Malik definitely kept Malik under control, in a cowed, miserable sort of way, but she had the feeling that it wasn't the best idea. If he learned now only to respond to violence, how would he react to her, when she treated him differently?

Isis brought this problem before Rishid, slightly disturbed. Rishid only smiled at her.

"You're forgetting something," he told Isis kindly, "by the time your father is dead, Malik won't remember him anymore, anyway."

Life in the tombs was monotonic, but Isis always had her books. Studying took up the most part of her time, and she would read for recreation as well. Sometimes, though she knew it was forbidden, she would go and play with Malik. He was always happy to see her, and sometimes she found herself reacting to his innocent gaze and happy laugh the way she would towards a younger brother. Whenever she caught herself thinking that, she would immediately leave him, admonishing herself sternly. She knew that Malik wasn't her brother, and if her father caught her treating him as a brother, or Ra forbid, _teaching_ him something, she would probably be in for a beating. Nonetheless, she would watch him, feeling strangely drawn to him. Having grown up with him as she had, you would have thought that she'd be used to him. After all, he hadn't changed much in the time she'd known him. He still had the same obedient, cheerful personality, and the short attention span.

Sometimes she found herself wondering whether it would be possible to really teach him anything. Would his mind start developing, then? Of course, she would never dare to do such a thing, because of the danger. Her mother had warned her constantly about him, and she knew the doctrine well. There was no purpose in her trying to befriend him, since someday he would no longer remember her, either. But the true danger was of him rebelling, because there was no knowing what damage he could cause.

Of course, he talked. He didn't have a very large vocabulary, but he could definitely manage. Sometimes Isis would sit and tell him stories, but even then she was careful, and most of them dealt with blind obedience to the gods. It also helped that he would naively accept almost any explanation she came up with; once, she had told him a story of the Sun God Ra, and he had asked what the sun looked like.

"It's a large ball, hanging in the sky that makes light."

He looked confused. "But how can a ball hang in the sky if nothing holds it up?"

"Ra holds it up. The gods can do everything."

"So why does a stone fall when I let go and the 'sun' doesn't?"

"Because they are gods, and that's what they decided. We mustn't ask why."

Malik nodded cheerfully, and that was the end of the conversation.

Isis first became aware of the danger when she was about thirteen years old. She was sitting in her room, embroidering on a shirt, when Malik walked in. He watched her working for a few minutes, then spoke up.

"Isis, why can't I go outside? I want to go out."

Isis nearly pricked her finger in shock. He wasn't supposed to ask questions like that! Trying to hide how shaken she was, she continued embroidering, while answering as calmly as she could. "But Malik, you know that we can't go out! It's our duty to stay in here!" She looked at him. "We mustn't do something so bad like rebelling! That would be wrong!" Isis studied his features sharply, looking for any kind of clue, but he just smiled innocently as he always did. "Okay, Isis," he said, before turning and wandering away.

Isis immediately put down her sewing and ran into Rishid's room, almost hysterical.

"What did we do?" she cried. "He's not supposed to question his duty! He never has!"

"But you said he seemed back to normal afterwards," Rishid mused.

"What if he's pretending? We might have failed in our sworn duty! In all the things I've learned about him, he's never asked a question like that! He's not supposed to be _capable_ of asking a question like that!"

Rishid pondered. "We'll watch him," he said finally. "If it gets worse, then we'll have to tell your father, but not before then." Both of them were very afraid of Isis' father. The penalties he would lay on them if he discovered this would be very heavy.

As it turned out, there wasn't much they could do, as was demonstrated about two weeks later. Malik's behavior began changing rapidly. His innocent smile was replaced by an angry glare, and his blank eyes gained the gleam of dangerous intelligence. And he no longer trusted Isis. He still cared about Rishid, but didn't trust him either. In a quiet conversation one night, they decided that, in this situation, the best they could do was to try to gain and keep his trust. Malik would be dealt with later.

They did not expect him to murder Isis' father. At that point they knew that the evil creature within him was once again awake.


	3. Sanjiyan

**Chapter 3: Sanjiyan**

Malik snarled as he watched the Thing beat on the walls of its pyramid-shaped prison. There was nothing more he wanted to do than to grab this creature that was his slaver for so long, and wring his neck. He wanted to hurt it as badly as he had been hurting for so long. He wanted to take out all his anger and pain on it, see it writhing in agony. He wanted to break it thoroughly before he finally destroyed it entirely. But he couldn't touch it! The need for revenge consumed his entire being, but he couldn't take it out on the being that most deserved it. He could lock it away, he could scare it, he could listen to its whimpers as it watched him hurt all those humans who had enslaved him, but he couldn't make it bleed.

"This is all _your_ fault!" It had taken away everything that was his. It had taken his body, his freedom, even his name. _It_ was the one they called Malik! And now, even when his freedom was so close, he still was a prisoner. He was prisoner to the spells on his back that prevented him from using his power, the power that could have obliterated his treacherous 'family' in an instant, and destroyed the legacy of the 'Pharaoh Atem'.

The Thing, his so-called Light looked at him with hatred, and stood up within his clear cell. "How exactly is this _my_ fault?" he yelled. "You're the one who corrupted me! You're the one who ruined my life!"

"Life?" Malik practically laughed. "What life? You don't exist! For thousands of years you were only there to keep me in check, and you blame me? If it wasn't for you, they would not have been able to keep me under control so long!"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" the other Malik retorted. "You're a maniac! You're evil!"

"All you're spouting is the nonsense you've been fed. How dare you decide that you have a right to live in my body?"

"It's not your body!"

Malik stared in mild disgust at the one struggling to break free. Obviously, it was delusional; there was no other explanation. He turned away from it, leaving it alone in the dark.

. . . .

The Sanjiyan now was a far cry from the frightened child he had been. Then, he had been young and weak, and the torture and betrayal he suffered had left him helpless and nearly broken. But the Sanjiyan nature is not meek, nor is it forgiving. Being alone for so long gave him plenty of time to reflect, and soon a murderous rage started to boil in him, searching for a way out. When his mind was lucid, he knew that he would have his revenge someday, for the one thing his jailers would make sure of was his well being; in that sense, he would be kept safe.

When he broke free, he viewed the world around him with contempt. He hated these weak, fragile specimens of the human race, in his mind all accomplices to his captors, and relished the thought of making them pay for his pain. He had never met the 'Pharaoh Atem' the priests had always mentioned, but knew that he was one of the reasons for his capture. The Pharaoh himself was nothing more than a symbol to him, someone sanctifying his pain, which as such must be destroyed. Only after he saw the other actors in the elaborate play of Battle City, did he understand that this Pharaoh was nothing more than a memory resurrected, a puppet dancing to a tune written for him years ago, as were the Tombrobber, the Priest, and all the others. From then on, the feeling towards them paled to almost nothing; they were not worthy of his notice, not the masterminds of the operation, but pawns trundling their way towards inevitable death. All his feeling was focused on the damnable Tombkeepers, who watched the proceedings with the hidden knowledge of those who already knew the outcome, and the Thing whose role, puppet or puppeteer, he had yet to establish.

. . . . .

Malik the Sanjiyan tried to understand the Thing. He wanted to know how it had managed to keep him sealed away for so long. His mind was easily more powerful than it, so he broke into its memories, to see its thoughts and feelings, to understand what drove it. In the first layer, he found a loyalty to his 'brother' and 'sister'. Just their images were enough to make Malik want to kill someone. He would destroy his slavers. Naïve little Thing, did he really think they cared for him? Of course they did, as one might care for a pet, or some curiosity that must be humored and protected. But cherished? Loved?

He continued digging into Thing's mind, trying to understand what he was finding. The more he dug, the less there was. He sifted through memories, finding the point where they merged with his own, creating a strange jumble of truth and fiction, but past that…was blank. Malik continued digging, not caring about the effect this intrusion might have on Thing, but couldn't understand what he was finding. How could there be nothing there? What kind of creature had no mind, no sense of self-awareness, no memory?

Then- a flicker. He dug deeper, and slowly fuzzy memories began emerging again. They were vague, incoherent, muddled, but they were there. The memories grew slightly clearer for awhile, until they vanished again. Slowly he began to understand the cycle: there would be blankness, then intelligence and self awareness would emerge for a short while, only to vanish and have the cycle begin again.

. . . . .

Slowly, Malik was becoming obsessed with the Thing. His anger and frustration were now directed towards his jailer, who was stubbornly refusing to die. How could someone like that, a mere _construct_, have enough willpower to keep on? Where could he possibly be drawing it from? Thing was clinging to life with a tenacity that would have impressed him if he weren't so angry. So far, everything he had tried had failed, and he was starting to worry. Every time he saw Rishid or Isis he could practically see the smugness radiating off them, and it drove him wild. What did they know that he didn't?

He had also seen Shadi once, which had driven him into a deep depression over the continuing treachery of his Wu. He sat in his room, feeling hunted. Even now, when he was mostly in control of his body, he was still a prisoner on the ship, and later on the island. There was nowhere for him to go. He wished more than anything that he could have his Sanjiyan powers back, but that was futile dreaming.

There was no one to help him. He never considered, in his wildest dreams, that the other humans might have been willing to help him. He only knew the attitude humans held towards him all these years, which was one of revulsion and horror. To all the humans he'd met he was a monster, and was treated as such. Malik's anger at those individuals had no reason not to spread to the rest of the human race. Had he been in full possession of his Sanjiyan powers, all the participants in the Battle City finals would have come to an abrupt end, before he turned his anger outwards to the rest of humanity. First though, he would turn his attention to the finalists, especially the Pharaoh, and to getting rid of his pesky other.

. . . . . .

He knew he was beat. Even when the last duel had just begun, he knew that he had messed up the situation badly. Trying to duel the Game King on his own turf was an act of insanity. Truthfully, Malik knew that his sanity was nothing to write home about to begin with, but his lack of common sense was going to cost him the only chance at freedom presented to him in three thousand years. He had set up the system to destroy the Thing as a last-ditch attempt, though you wouldn't know that from his behavior. If he succeeded in destroying Thing, then it would be at least that much harder to keep him under control, and maybe he could break free again in a few years. He continued to play, all the what-ifs and might-have-beens running through his mind incessantly. As he looked at the Tombkeepers, he could see triumph in their eyes, though they kept their expressions worried. Like he had so long ago, he felt the terror of being trapped, as he battled on helplessly against a foe he knew he couldn't win against, but his pride wouldn't let him admit defeat. The Thing, who had been dormant until now, woke up. He, too, turned against the Sanjiyan and fought to free himself, to gain control of his body once again. Malik knew such control would be short lived, even if it did manage to survive. A small ray of compassion for Thing penetrated his aura of anger and self-pity. Did it truly know what awaited him at the hands of his so-called 'family'? Thing was nothing if not stubborn; was there any chance of him, at least, retaining his spirit, though the Sanjiyan was doomed to fail? And then, maybe he could someday help in freeing the Sanjiyan once and for all…


	4. Nothing

**Chapter 3: Nothing**

Paranoia had set in. Ever since his yami had been banished, Malik could feel them watching him. He tried to pretend that the only reason for that was because he had run amuck in Battle City, but what his yami had told him just before he vanished stayed stuck in his mind. _"Whatever you do, don't delude yourself that they actually care about you. First chance they get they'll erase your mind and all of your memories. Don't fall into their trap."_ He tried to ignore it, he really did, but it didn't let him go. He noticed how no matter where he went, either Rishid or Isis always contrived to be somewhere near. He could always feel their eyes on him, following his every movement.

Now, he was sitting crouched in his room, after announcing he was going to sleep. His bedroom door was double locked, as it had been every night ever since the end of Battle City, and his window was open to enable a quick getaway. His ear was pressed against the door, and he could hear footsteps coming closer. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, as the person –Isis, he could tell, stopped in front of the door. His breath practically froze in his lungs as she silently twisted the handle and tried to open the door, only to find it locked. Now she stepped away slightly, and he could hear her murmuring, and being answered by Rishid. Malik slumped against the door, panting slightly, as he waited for his heart-rate to slow back to normal. It had been like this every night since Battle City, and each time he became more afraid. He desperately wanted to ask them why they tried to get into his room every night, to hear what they would say, but he was also afraid of the answer. And he was afraid to let them know that he knew about their nightly visits. He pulled his knees up to his chest, and wondered how long this would go on.

His grades started dropping. How could he possibly work hard in school, if what his 'yami' had said was true? Every minute of the day the knowledge burned at him, that he wasn't like other people. They were all real, they had their lives and purposes ahead of them. He was nothing but a parasite with borrowed intelligence. It ate away at him, until some nights he would toss and turn in bed, tears streaming down his face and wishing he dared commit suicide. But it wasn't even his body! What right did he have to decide whether to live or die?

_All I want is to live my life, my _own_ life! he_ thought angrily. _What did I do to deserve this sucky existence? What am I? Who am I? _

Even now that he had the illusion of autonomy and normalcy, any enjoyment of it he might have had was ruined by the horrible self knowledge that he was nothing, and would always be nothing, living on borrowed time.

_No! I refuse to live with that! I will be myself, even if I don't know who that is. I will find myself a purpose. My yami believed in me, he even respected me! He tried to get rid of me, but didn't manage. I will –I _must_, live on. _

"I'm home!" Malik called routinely, as he dropped his backpack in the living room and went into the kitchen. He entered, then stopped short, as he saw Shadi sitting at the table. His breath caught in his throat, and he took an involuntary step back. He could feel an aura of menace in the room, even as Isis smiled at him and told him that it was only Shadi, there was nothing to be afraid of.

Shadi stood up, watching him with the same blank expression he always wore. "Malik, this situation has gone on long enough. It is time to bring it to an end."

Shadi began advancing on him, along with Isis, making an ever-shrinking triangle with Malik at the last point. Malik stepped back, all the warning signals in his head blaring at once, as he prepared to make a break for it. A steely hand on his shoulder prevented him from moving, and he stared up into Rishid's impassive eyes.

"Rishid! What are you doing?" Malik cried, as he was immobilized by Rishid's strong hands on his upper arms. "Isis! Please, don't do this to me!" Where was his loving older sister, the one who he always remembered comforting him? What happened to the loyal brother who had stayed by his side?

"As you can see," Isis said, "he is completely out of control." Malik's eyes widened at her. He had never heard her use such a cold, uncompassionate tone before, and she was talking about _him_! As Shadi raised the glowing Millennium Ankh, the bitter taste of betrayal filled Malik's mouth, as he knew for certain that the things his yami had told him were true. He wasn't real. He didn't exist. Rishid and Isis cared nothing for him; his only purpose was to keep his yami –the _true_ Malik- in check. All his thoughts and wishes were for nothing, for he all he was was a meaningless bit of consciousness in a body where none should be.

As the Millennium Ankh neared his forehead, he retreated into his mind, attempting to evade its magic, even as questions raced through his head. If he was really nothing, how did he have self-awareness? Why was he feeling such a sense of pain and betrayal? Why was it so hard to believe that this was actually happening to him?

Malik had expected the inside of his mind to be dark, maybe a 'soul room' and corridor like he had heard Yugi tell of. Instead, he found himself outdoors, under a pale blue sky. All around him he could see strange, slightly round structures bulging upwards, among ruins and strange, dead plant life. In the distance there was a huge building, which he instinctively knew to be a palace. The architecture was slightly reminiscent of Ancient Egypt, with large square shapes and pillars, windows and arches, reaching to the sky. On the wall of the palace was a huge symbol of three eyes in a pyramidal order. The complete silence of the place was unnerving. No other living thing existed here, giving the landscape an old, dead feel.

Right in front of him, though, was an irregularity in this dead world, which he immediately recognized. He ran toward the only other living thing in this place –his yami. As he ran forward, he saw his yami raise his head in surprise for a minute, then his expression settled into one of sad resignation.

The Sanjiyan was sitting slumped in the middle of a slightly glowing circle, arcane designs all around him, with chains on his arms, legs and neck. He sadly focused his three eyes on the other him, who had come to a stop just outside his circle.

"Please, help me!" the lighter one begged, knowing that before him was the only person in the world who had never lied to him.

The Sanjiyan sighed. "So they got you too, eh? If I had any power at all, I wouldn't be sitting chained up in my own mind. Sorry, kid."

Kid- that was what he was: a small, frightened child, with no identity. He fell to his knees. "I'm going to fade."

"You'll be free," the Sanjiyan answered. "Something I've wanted to be for three thousand years."

"Better be an eternal slave, than vanish into oblivion!" the kid cried hotly, tears on his cheeks. The only things that made him who he was were his memories; he had no soul, for how could a construct like him possibly have a soul? With his memories gone, the person he was would simply cease to exist –eternally.

Malik, the Sanjiyan, watched Malik, the child, sadly. In a strange way, he had become attached to this jailer of his, this jailer who was as much a victim as he himself was. He had hoped that maybe this one would manage to survive, but- "Come here," he said quietly. The little one came towards him, and he managed to wrap his chained arms around him, pulling him close. The kid was shaking as he clung to him, and he could hear him whispering, "I don't want to disappear!"

"Shhhh," the darker Malik said quietly. "You won't disappear. You're _real_, you hear me?! I'll always remember you, no matter what happens. If I remember you, it means you'll live forever, because I'm immortal." He held onto the lighter one, as if trying to convey his feeling through their very bodies. The Sanjiyan wasn't one to get emotional; indeed, the last time he had actually worried about someone other than himself had been so long ago he wasn't sure if it had ever happened. But just this once, to comfort this person who would never exist again…"I'll never forget you."

"Really?" the lighter Malik breathed, even as his body began to disappear into nothing.

"I swear it!" the Sanjiyan looked into the kid's dulling eyes, knowing himself to be the only person to promise the kid something with the intention of keeping it. "You won't disappear, not ever. A person only truly dies when he is forgotten."

The lighter half's mouth moved, but no words were heard as the last silhouette of his body faded into nothingness.

Once again, the only Malik left was alone in his Konron, the land of his destroyed and forgotten race. Slowly, lethargy came over him, as he felt his energy draining. His eyes closed, and he felt himself fading once more into darkness.

In the real world, Isis heaved a sigh of relief as Shadi put the Millennium Ankh back into his robes. Rishid held Malik, who had collapsed limply, though his chest still rose and fell steadily. His lavender eyes were empty and glassy, staring at nothing.

**Ended, but not completed**

So, is this the end? For those of you familiar with 3x3 Eyes, you know that they're still searching for the third Sanjiyan, so there's definitely a possibility for a continuation. And as long as they're alive, there's always some kind of continuation, even if I don't write it. So there's still hope for Malik.

Comments and reactions are welcome (even if you just want to yell at me for being so nasty to them).

-Tramontana Keeper


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